


Team Player

by threnodyjones



Series: Untitled Eroica Series [2]
Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:39:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threnodyjones/pseuds/threnodyjones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Interpol officer unwittingly manages to get an intimate look at life with the Eroica team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Player

Infiltrating an organization is never easy. Not for any of us. I've yet to hear anyone tell the truth when they say it's easy. We are given new lives, new histories, new looks, but we can never really be ourselves, and that's the most dangerous part of undercover work. At any moment something might trigger an automatic response in our brains that will give us away.

That's why I hated undercover.

But I couldn't deny the rush I got every time I thought I might be found out. My breathing quickened, my heart started pumping just a bit harder. My sense of smell jumped off the scales and I could breath in and identify the slightest scent from 100 paces. I was religious for me. That's why I loved it.

Spiritual or not, there were some things I just despised. Like this party, for instance. I was wearing my detested wool dress suit, and the room felt about 32 degrees. There was a crush of people all around. Not something I liked, even when they were all friends of mine. I didn't like splitting my attention between so many things, let alone having to concentrate most of my reserves on pretending to be one of the errand boys for the mob.

We'd flown in earlier in the week, just a few days ago really. Seemed like more, given all the places we'd visited so far. But this soiree was the ultimate reason for the visit. The Boss felt required to attend, like something important might happen. All I'd heard so far was that a lot of big names would be in attendance. Which didn't make me feel any easier. I'd done heavy undercover work home in Sydney, and I was hoping that this gathering wasn't going to produce someone who might recognize me in any way.

Pete was standing next to me at the buffet, helping himself to bread and meat, making little sandwiches which he then decorated with whatever nearby would make a handy condiment. It was still a bit unnerving to have to call this man by our shared name, since every time someone called for him I was always tempted to respond as well. In the beginning I had quickly decided that the easiest way around the inherent problem would be to become mates with the man as soon as possible. Then I could pull off being the curious bloke who had to see what was going on if I was ever caught. Too nerve-wracking, it was.

I noticed an unsubtle change in the atmosphere of the party, meaning another person had arrived and everyone was looking to see who it was, or gossiping about who it might be. Wasn't too difficult to find who the new guy was. Walking slowly down the main staircase, talking to several hangers-on as he went, was a tall blonde man. He had a thick head of curls trailing halfway down his back, and was dressed in a fashionably flashy white suit. He triggered something in my mind, but I could put no particulars to the feeling of recognition. Which meant he wasn't Mafioso.

"Hey," I nudged Pete. "Who's he?"

Pete barely had to look up.

"That's Eroica. Art thief. Probably haven't heard of him because he keeps his organization separate from anyone else's if he can help it. Real independent one, he is. Acts like he's better than the rest of us. Keeps himself admired among the bosses though. Think they like him cause he's a bit of a nutter. Not too bright either. More show than anything else, but his team's good. His saving grace."

The name struck a tiny chord in me. But in my career I hadn't paid much attention to art thieves. He'd never struck Down Under to the best of Interpol knowledge, and so I'd never concerned myself with learning his sheet profile. But I doubt anyone could forget the incident in Italy when he'd been supposedly captured. The detective who had worked the case had disappeared from investigative work; disappeared in the more alarming sense of the word.

I became distracted from the thief when I saw Mr. Cal talking with a group of underworld lords. I made my way closer, hoping to look like I was waiting to perform some job at Cal's beck and call so I could overhear what they were discussing. I got a good earful over time; Mr. Cal was very interested in expanding his business into heroin as well as racketeering. Wouldn't my superior like to hear this one.

I don't know when it happened, or why, but one minute I felt completely safe in my role as a mob enforcer, and the next moment I saw Cal staring at me coldly from across the room. I looked to see who he was talking to, and couldn't place the face, but now they were both looking at me. It didn't take long for Cal to start making his way over to me.

Not knowing what was up, I met him half way, and that will always be mistake number one in my book. Before I even knew what was happening I was in a private room, on the ground with an aching jaw and Cal calmly pointing a gun at me, asking how I thought I'd be able to get away with betraying him to his enemies.

Alistair Cambridge was the man I had failed to recognize, but I knew his name. He'd been an associate of another gangster whose operation I'd infiltrated so carefully. My bosses and I had always assumed I'd be safe and unrecognized in this web since Cal had shown no initiative in becoming involved in any way with my previous assignment or any of his associates. Our mistake...

There are few things as pissing scary as staring into the barrel of an employer's gun, and then hearing the hammer cock.

"Blood on the host's carpet is like eating pork, darling." A highly cultured British accent interrupted Mr. Cal's actions. "It simply isn't done in some circles. You know that. This carpet is _Persian_. Woven between 1250 and 1280, I'd think. You know how I feel about beautiful things. I'd have to end up removing the rug before this chap blemished it with stains, and how would Louis react to that? He loves this rug."

I watched as Eroica moved through the doorway, into my view, and took a small tour of the room, causally observing everything within. He may as well have owned everything here.

He walked over to Mr. Cal and bent close to the bastard's ear.

"Would you like me to take care of him? I promise not to be too gentle."

Oh, I hated how he looked at me. It was too calculating. While I had heard of Eroica, but I knew next to nothing about his private _modus operandi_. With Cal, it was always easy to double think his next move; I'd studied my target.

Eroica's face was full of wicked amusement, and I wondered what exactly he found so amusing. A beating I could handle, so long as I lived through it. I was surprised that Cal hadn't worked me over first, but of course, he was _really_ mad.

"You are a menace to society, Mr. Eroica," Cal spat out. The tone was a mixture of vexation and severe irritation, but the anger was melting away.

"Why thank you! I do so try." Eroica was all smiles now. As if he hadn't been before. "I do believe Mr. Grayston was looking for you earlier. Did you ever meet up with him?"

Cal moved out of my sight and away from the blond. "I'm sure my oversight will be corrected immediately. Enjoy, Eroica. Good day."

Silence followed his departure. It was taking me more than a few moments to realize I wasn't about to die. A proffered hand helped me back to my feet, and I felt a small flush of embarrassment over the entire situation, but the Englishman before me looked at me with amused seriousness rather than anything which might contribute to my humiliation.

"What on earth did you do to make Mr. Cal so furious?" His blue eyes were wide with wonder. Or maybe they were just naturally that wide. I'm not certain. "I almost couldn't convince him to play along."

"I... I think he thinks I was trying to dob on him to another bloke." What the hell was I going to do now? Cal's temper was legendary with anyone who knew him.

"Really?" I looked up suddenly from the carpet which I suppose had played a factor in my rescue. There was a note of deep speculation in the blond's voice, but his eyes said this whole thing was an amusing pastime. "Were you?"

I blinked, caught off guard for some reason, and forgot to answer. I stared at the pommy for several more moments.

"I don't think you were. Or at least not in the way Mr. Cal thought."

"And why is that?" A cold chill was spreading through my legs and elbows, up to my stomach. This would not be the time to be found out.

"Well, you certainly aren't acting as though you've other support. You're looking rather like a deer in headlights, or a small rabbit startled by a large dog. And those who cross one organization for another tend to act differently in these situations. You merely looked terrified of dying for an incorrect assumption in this case."

I stood poleaxed.

"Well, I suppose we should keep you out of Cal's sight for a while. It takes him a bit to cool off, you know," he said, airy as a galoot.

We walked back out into the main ballroom, and within moments a person appeared before Eroica, as though he lived to serve. Eroica instructed him to take me to the car and that he would follow shortly after taking his leave with a few of the guests.

Ten or so minutes later found Eroica walking over to us, accompanied by a man wearing shaded glasses even in the dark, and waving a cigar around. I didn't recognize him until I overheard Eroica called him Volobollante. I was still too disoriented. The two seemed close, and I was really beginning to wonder at the power this guy must wield. He'd never shown hot on any grey notices, despite his apparent close ties with the Mafia of two countries. I'd only heard of him connected with art thefts, and yet here he was rubbing shoulders and elbows with big names in the Underworld.

Volobollante gave Eroica an enthusiastic hug good-bye before we all let ourselves into the pommy's car and began driving off to who knew where. Eroica was humming some tune or other, ignoring me for a good part of the drive.

"M'lord?" asked the driver.

 _'M'lord?'_

"Home, Jonesie."

I saw the two blonds exchange a look in the rear-view driver's mirror, some silent exchange of thoughts or ideas that came with years of service or friendship or partnership. I wondered what it was all about.

"Yes sir."

"I rather feel in the mood for something which I am not appropriately dressed," Eroica said, much more brightly than his previous statement. "What say, Jones? This is quite a night for London, isn't it?"

"So long as James don't discover it, yes sir. Seems just right for ya."

"When did you want to collect your things from your former employer?" The question was obviously directed towards me, but it took a moment for my brain to register the words.

"Wha?" came my eloquent response. Eroica merely looked at me patiently. "Oh, I, I doubt I'll be able to get anything now." _Damn!_ "Damn, I doubt I'll be able to get anything now," I repeated to myself.

"Oh, posh and nonsense. I'll have your things delivered the day after tomorrow. Until then, I'm sure one of the staff will lend you a few articles."

Conversation was nil for greater part of the car ride, and an hour later we were on the outskirts of London driving the M1 into the heart of the capital. It took some time, but we finally arrived at a flat.

"Is this home?" Could this really be the home of Eroica? I was almost salivating at the thought of being able to contact my superiors with this information, even though I knew it might be a while before I would be able to safely check in. I didn't want to blow my cover since I was already in so deep. These operations take too much time to rebuild from scratch with a new person.

"Not at all. This is the flat. And you mustn't be shy of asking questions. I don't usually bite too hard." He smiled at me in an almost disturbing fashion. My God! The man was flirting with me!

I don't know what I must have looked like, but he started laughing suddenly, in bright, hearty tones.

"So you aren't homosexual. Don't worry, nothing more ever happens than you wish. Jones, take him home and get him settled in. Have somebody see to his needs. And get some rest dear. You need it."

"Want me t' send someone to come round and pick you up later, sir?" Eroica smiled impishly.

"I doubt that will be much necessary, no. Have a good night."

"Will do, M'lord. Be careful."

Eroica slipped out the door and closed it quietly. We stayed until the man had gone safely within the building before moving away from the curve.

I found out later on why he was addressed as "M'lord" by Jones. The man had a fucking castle, with a title to match. The international art thief was a bleeding British noble. And of course I had the thoughts that this might be why all those arrest warrants out on him were still outstanding. I wouldn't put the Scotland Yard past overlooking the illicit deeds of one of their precious nobles. The British had been doing it for centuries, so far, and Aussie I was, and I certainly didn't approve of that.

I couldn't believe it. 2 hours and I already had more information on Eroica than Interpol had managed to collect in 5 years.

It wasn't until the next morning that I realized just how insane this particular infiltration could be.

Jones had told me before leaving me to my newly appointed room that breakfast was whenever I made my way downstairs to the kitchen area. (Right, down the hall, right, stairs, left, right, straight.) When I finally got down there, after several run-ins with cluttered halls and blocked off passageways, there was quite an assorted group of men and women in the eating area. Well, at first I had thought they were women. As it turned out, women at Red-Gloria, which was really just an affectionate name, the estate having been built with a different name the Earl had no care for, were a fairly rare occurrence. Women were usually kept to city flats or properties, and anything woman-like I might see here had male parts attached.

And then there were the actual characters of the team. They were all off their rockers in some way or another. Jones and a man named Bonham seemed the most normal of the lot. Seasoned professionals those two are. But they lived and breathed the pulse of the staff. Jones was in a pissy mood that morning, and I was later told by Bonham that it was because his latest had just left him for another man, and he would be good and normal as Jones could be once he got himself into the city and found a new playmate for evening or early afternoon romps. I never did ascertain whether the "latest" was male or female.

Bonham himself was a jolly bloke, always willing to befriend it seemed. Apparently there was little strange to him seeing me suddenly appear. I had been given curious faces by the others, but they were curious in the sort that they had known about me and wanted to find out more. Bonham also seemed to find nothing strange in that Eroica had not come home the night before, so I wondered if this was a regular thing for the thief.

Eroica himself showed up around 9. But not before I had met James.

James was a runt of a boy (or man, I couldn't quite decide) with dark wavy hair that always managed to obscure part of his face. If a mug shot were ever taken of the guy, all he'd have to do is pull the hair back or cut it and no one would ever know it was him. Well, by looks at any rate. Personality would have him pinpointed from 100 klicks. My first thought was that I didn't know what he did, and I hoped to never find out. It only got worse when Eroica materialized in the kitchen and began searching for food.

James had just begun grilling me. "So what exactly is it that _you_ do?" he'd asked with a haughty, stuck up sniffle. Aside from the clothes he acted like he belonged to a household of one of the pompous nouveau riche.

The worst part was, I honestly didn't know how to answer that. Eyes were expectantly watching me, all curious and waiting for an answer. I remembered then that I hadn't even introduced myself to anyone, not even Eroica.

"Well, I... watch. And I'm a, I'm a good strong arm." James rolled his eyes and snorted. He looked ready to throw a fit. The others were merely staring at me somewhat owlishly with a pregnant silence.

"My Lord!!!!" The others in the kitchen winced at the shrill yell, and magically the Earl came through the back entrance to the kitchen, though completely ignoring the shout which had sounded. James' back had been to the Earl's surreptitious entrance, and so he only turned when other's attentions had been drawn over his shoulder. But when the Lord Gloria was sighted, the little brat leaped out of his chair to go to the man. And to stop short fast enough.

"My Lord!" he said, sounding scandalized and hurt. "You were out last night! You've been with a man!"

The runt seemed about to sound off again when the Eroica turned to him and put his arm around the shorter man's shoulders and began walking around a bit.

"Yes I have, but you'll never guess what was waiting for me when I came in this morning! This!" From nowhere he procured a small statuette, maybe a foot tall. "Now, this is worth at least £700,000, and you've done remarkably well in the past at getting 2/3. Why don't you try for 3/4 this time, darling? You might try contacting Empire--"

James at that point had pulled out a calculator and gone off mumbling and screeching in joy by turns while Eroica had turned to the rest of us and told us to stay away from the North wing since that was where he had stashed the team which had just come in that morning with the statuette.

"They are utterly knackered, and I will not have them disturbed. Understood?"

We all nodded, which seemed to be enough to draw his attention back to me.

"Mr. Cal will be having someone deliver your things to the poste in a day or so. That should suffice quite nicely, I should think."

When had he arranged that, I wondered. And why was I thinking that it happened as smoothly as he had just told me?

"Have you decided what we are to call you?"

I blinked. What did that mean? Eroica again read me too well and answered my unspoken question.

"Many of the people here go by whatever name they feel most comfortable with. Sometimes it is their given name, with others a name they prefer. So what shall we call you? You can not be a non-entity forever. It's not done."

Yeah, just like staining thousand year old Persian rugs with blood isn't done either, in your book, your Lordship.

"Pete." It slipped out of my mouth before I could censor it. "Pete is as good a name as any."

"Pete it is," Eroica responded. So I finally had a name, only this time it was my own. I saved cursing myself for later on so I could really give myself a beating.

The blond brought out a large round of cheese and broke off a chunk, managing to keep all those curls out of it. He had to have showered before coming here, because he looked fresh and awake.

"Bonham, I'll be upstairs. I need to have at least a few hours sleep before that ridiculous excuse of a function this afternoon." Eroica started walking around the kitchen, ducking around the assorted pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. "I don't know why they keep inviting me."

"Wot would you do if they d'nt, M'lord?" Bonham asked, very amused, knowing the answer already I assumed. Eroica smiled back.

"Well I'd go anyway and bring back a souvenir, of course. That isn't the point, however. They don't _know_ I'm a thief. They can't stand me as it is, just as I can't stand them. But watch every one of them appear if I were ever to hold an event and invite them. Balls, it would be the talk of London for weeks."

"Months, I'd imagine. All them society ladies getting themselves up in their fashions."

Eroica scowled and finished off his piece of cheese and pulled out a new square, taking off another good sized piece.

"I'm hoping for four, but don't let him wake me before three are up."

"Got it. We'll keep 'im out of your hair, M'lord. One o'clock, then?"

"If everything is ready for me, I'll take two and risk being slightly later than planned. I got no sleep last night."

"That's what happens when you don't take time to rest." Eroica turned back to Bonham with a mischievous smile.

"Oh, he was far too much fun to waste time _sleeping_."

"Just good to see you getting your oats again, sir. You don't do that nearly enough these days."

"You worry far too much, Bonham," he said as he turned to leave the same way he had entered. "Take care of everything!" he called, and a chorus of affirmatives rang out from those still in the kitchen.

I turned back to everyone and was handed a platter of food. I looked over the people, some who were willing to pay attention to me, others who were busy with their own conversations. Somehow I had become part of this team, and damned if I knew how or if it could ever be repeated.

 

In a lot of ways I think Lord Gloria was hailed as some minor deity among these people. I have to say, His Lordship treated his staff and team far better than any other head of a criminal orgo I've ever been in. We could have what we wanted, so long as we could weasel it out of James. And if anyone took a request to the Earl himself, it was summarily granted. We were always on call, but rarely called upon, it seemed. Though after a while I did begin noticing that several of the senior team would always get nervous when the Earl took off on his own. That I didn't understand until later.

The team itself worked well together. I no longer had any doubts about their competency. I can't say that everybody lived well together, but when it came to their profession, they obeyed the Earl above and beyond the call. They seemed to have more tricks for escaping the law or covering their tracks than there were policemen walking the streets of Sydney and London combined. And every one of them would have willingly turned themselves over to the authorities if it meant protecting the Earl. I somehow had the feeling it was the same vice-versa.

Over the course of three weeks I discovered much more about the Earl himself. The man was nothing short of an overgrown child, filled with a well-mannered child's generosity. "What His Lordship wants, he gets, come Hell, high water, or forces of God or man." is what Bonham told me one time. And the staff always did as much as they possibly could to keep the man entertained and happy.

One day Bonham had come rushing into a room where the Earl had been idly listening to music and staring at a painting. He'd been bored for a while now, and we all knew it.

"M'lord! Have you heard the Tate revamped its security?"

Lord Gloria had sat up quickly, exuding the full force of his indefatigable energy. "Really?" He rose in a fluid rush with Bonham trailing him, asking if he wanted more details. I only heard the Earl saying he liked surprises before the whirlwind of activity was gone.

And I finally learned why everyone was always clamoring for his attention when he walked into a room. The man was never around. The only people who ever saw him on a consistent basis seemed to be Bonham and James. For anyone else it was perfectly normal to see the Earl only once or twice a week as both they and he moved around the castle with different tasks or objectives. Though half the time I spent there Lord Gloria wasn't even at the castle, but traveling around on either official Lordly duties or with his less official career-related duties I guessed.

The Earl also graduated from one of the better colleges of Oxford, with a 2:1. Not that I would have discovered that from any paper evidence in the castle. I found out one morning when I was helping Tom sort through the poste. The Earl tended not to give much noticed to mail if it was handed to him in an unsorted pile, and would end up ignoring everything otherwise unless cajoled to look at it. If anyone was uncertain if the Earl would want to see a particular piece, it was put in the "ask Bonham" pile.

A reunion notice popped up that day, and Tom helpfully answered all my questions. Art History major with strong Business and Political Science backgrounds. In a million years I would never have guessed the Business background. The Earl just didn't seem the type to be able to sit through those classes. Or maybe it was just me, and that I couldn't sit through those classes. Jones later told me that the Earl's degree might have been higher if he hadn't kept running afoul of Interpol in those days before he'd 'learned to avoid them properly'.

I'll never admit it to anybody, but I felt pretty damned proud of the Earl when I heard all this. The son of a noble, organizing and running a tough business and still he managed to get good grades in school. At least he took his profession seriously, even if it was on the opposite side of the law from me.

The morning after Lord Gloria had flounced off, determined to break into the Tate I saw him dutzing around in one of the galleries. I'd been slowly recording which pieces of art I found so I could have as detailed a list of information as possible when I left this place. It hadn't been easy. I wasn't an art lover to begin with, and taking this task hadn't really improved my thoughts about art. A lot of times when I ended up completely stumped about a certain piece, I'd ask someone else, and receive a shrug in return with the reply : "Something the Earl wanted." Nobody knew as much about art as the Earl did.

The Earl seemed even more bored and depressed than he had before. Bonham was with him, and so was James. They both looked more than a little nervous, though over what I didn't know. Had he nearly been caught? Was the Earl ill?

Both James and Bonham were doing their best to get the Earl's attention involved with something other than the artwork in this room, when suddenly Lord Gloria stopped his slow pacing, looking very thoughtful.

"I wonder what the Major is up to..."

Bonham and James froze, terrified.

"I'm sure he's up to something where he doesn't want you to get involved, sir. Best to leave him alone," Bonham said, rushed.

The Earl was having none of it though, and he left quickly, leaving us sitting there.

"Who's the Major?" I asked, wondering what kind of person would make these two react like they were. James had sunk to the ground making small whimpering noises. Bonham turned to look at me squarely.

"There's going to come a day very soon when you'll wish you hadn't asked that question."

 

Bonham ended up convening a small meeting in the kitchen. The moment he breathed hint of 'The Major' several people disappeared. Soon it was only Jones, Bonham, a guy named Theo, another named Nathaniel and myself. Bonham sighed.

"Well, there's always the chance--" a look from Jones silenced whatever thought had been about to come out. "Yeah, yeah, I know. It won't happen." Bonham looked defeated.

Within 15 minutes the Earl came rushing in, saying he'd made immediate plans for a trip to Luxembourg. Soon enough we were all on a plane heading for the tiny country. In the meantime, I found out a little more about who this Major guy was. The way Jones, Bonham and Theo described it, complete with interjections from James, the Earl had been stalking this guy across continents for years now. I raised an eyebrow at that. The Earl was a stalker?? That alone could get him a prison sentence.

We landed a few hours later, and completely oblivious to us following him, the Earl went directly to a certain hotel in the heart of the capital city. We walked into the lobby, and I saw the Earl look around carefully before setting his attention on 2 men in greatcoats. In fact... there seemed to be an awfully high number of greatcoats and suits in this hotel that looked remarkably similar. They were all military.

"Hello Mr. A, Mr. Z."

I wondered what kind of names those were as two men whirled around suddenly when the Earl spoke. I felt eyes turn on us as though we were suddenly the center of attention. Looking around myself, I saw that in fact we _were_ the center of attention for over half the lobby.

"Lord Gloria!" the taller man responded after a moment, surprised and wary. "What brings you to Luxembourg?"

"Why, I'm here to visit the new exhibit at the Museum..." The Earl engaged the man in talk, while the other pulled Bonham aside.

"A bit of warning might have been good, Bonham! This is a really bad time," whispered the other man with more fear than anger.

"A, I would have if I could. 'E gave me no bloody time," Bonham whispered back. "How is he?"

"He's in a really bad mood. The Chief has had him commuting between Bonn and here for three days now, and he just got in again. Can you just leave for a while? Keep the Earl occupied? I don't think any of us can handle him in a worse mood."

Just then a very loud, very terrifying roar came from one of the hallways, in German, I think. The entire lobby froze with the exception of one.

"Major! Darling! How are you doing? You haven't been getting enough sleep again, have you?" Lord Gloria's voice was cheerfulness personified as he moved closer to the origin of the dragon roar.

I took back whatever thoughts I might have had on getting the Earl convicted on stalking charges. One look at the Major and any judge would have thrown out the case immediately. The man was a fucking tank with a personality to match. Built like a brick shithouse. Though at the moment he was frozen with the sight of Lord Gloria coming closer to him.

"A!"

The man who had been talking to Bonham levitated away from Bonham instantly.

"We weren't talking, Sir!" he said terrified.

"What is this English trash doing here? Where are the police?"

"Th-they just showed up, sir!"

"Major, why are you in such a bad mood? Have you been eating right?"

I stared at the Earl's audacity to go up against this guy. Everyone else in the lobby (including me) was moving farther and farther away from the Major, trying to get a safe distance away for when he would explode. And Lord Gloria kept asking him stupid questions which only incensed him further. Bonham and Mr. A were taking turns hiding behind one another.

"That is none of your concern, you queer! Stop looking at me! A, P, Q, Z! We're leaving!" The tank stomped out of the hotel, several men trailing behind him at a distance. I missed part of it, but Lord Gloria latched on to one of the men who moved too close to him, and began questioning him. The Earl was certainly familiar with these blokes.

"Oh, please, no, Lord Gloria, don't ask me. I can't tell you! I've got parents to take care of!"

"I promise he'll never find out, B. We can do this the easy way, or the difficult way. And I promise, if it is the difficult way, I'll make it very, very difficult for you all."

The man nearly wilted at the words, staring off into the distance.

"Very difficult?" he mumbled.

"Yes," the Earl replied, sounding sympathetic. The man was still looking unconvinced. "Do you recall the Achilles incident? Or what about that time in Innsbruck?"

"But Lord Gloria! You _stole_ the Achilles!"

"Yes, but I didn't know I wasn't supposed to! I would feel horrible if something like that happened again. All that extra work for you and the Major, especially with him being so low on sleep, and I wouldn't be able to contact any of you since I wouldn't know if you'd call the police or something. Really, it is a problem."

If the man had slumped any more he would be melting into the floor.

"Alright..." he whispered.

"That's a dear. Let's wander this way. There's no need anyone else hear us..."

 

Who the hell was this guy that thought he had a right to beat up on civilians!? Even if the said civilians were thieves, and were interfering with a by-all-appearances-delicate operation, and even if they apparently _had_ done it before... I realized how close I was to talking myself into justifying the Major's behavior towards the Earl and brought myself to a halt then and there.

But I didn't stop from wanting to yell at the bastard that we were on the same side, even though it didn't look like it. Of course, given how his subordinates cowered, I don't think it would have made any difference if he had known.

Those were my thoughts as I became part of the Major's latest barrage against anybody in general, civilians in particular, and British queers specifically. He'd nearly wiped the runt off the face of the earth in the last go round. Mr. James and the Major had obviously had dealings in the past together.

I had experienced the pleasure of seeing Lord Gloria take the Major head on when it had looked like he was going to go after James. Fierce as any lioness protecting her young, he was, while the rest of us cowered on the side lines hoping to stay out of the line of fire. Have to say, it was interesting seeing the so apparently non-confrontational Earl take on a man with all the rage and power of a rampaging bull. Not the smartest thing I've ever seen, but it added another facet to the man's personality. I now understood why everybody thought Eroica was such a nutter, not being afraid of anyone or anything. If he'd been trailing this guy for years, it was no wonder! I've been in law enforcement all my life, and I was terrified of the German.

I guess Eroica _was_ a bit insane to do something like confronting the Major. Or maybe those two were forged from the same material. Orientalists would probably have years of fun comparing the two of them as polar opposites of the same thing.

I quickly discovered why everyone had been nearly broken when the Earl had announced his interest in what the Major was doing. One moment he had been with us, and in a next moment he was gone. Just gone. To say that none of us had any clue where he and the Major had disappeared would be understating the matter. The Major's subordinates were even more lost than we were though. At least we knew that wherever the Major was, so was Lord Gloria.

Bonham and Jones somehow managed to pull three aces from their combined sleeves, and we were able to suss-out the Earl. The agents, particularly Mr. A and Mr. Z followed us closely. I couldn't prove it, but I had the feeling that we were all working together; it seemed that we could not admit it, even to ourselves, however. I was impressed with how good Bonham and Jones were at tracking their errant leader, when it looked as though the Earl had found Black Stump without us.

We found them in Belgium, outside of Aarlon. It was the first time I'd ever seen the Earl looking less than spot on. His hair was wild and unruly, clothes slightly rumpled and he had a few scrapes on his chin and cheek. Once in sight of the Earl James ran to him, wrapping himself around the taller man. Lord Gloria accepted the embrace as natural and wound up comforting the squeak. But one thing I've noticed about Lord Gloria is when he really doesn't understand something, he gets really quiet and still, and listens very carefully to what is going on around him. For all the world it looked like he was comforting James in his distress, but he was also listening very carefully to the words the Major and his subordinates were exchanging.

That's when I saw someone bandaging the Major's hands. What the hell had happened out here? Neither the Major or the Earl were saying anything about it.

As soon as the Earl began moving again Bonham appeared by his side. I watched Lord Gloria speak very seriously to Bonham, but before I could move over to them Bonham nodded, looked at me and made a signal for me to follow him. Just like that we were in a car and driving someplace fast, but without the Earl or James.

"Where're we off to?" I asked Bonham while Jones took curves at speeds too dangerous to contemplate. We had to keep adjusting our position in the car to keep the truck from rolling.

"Lord Gloria wants us to fetch him up an address of somebody who wound him up."

"Who?" One of the windows in this truck was cracked and there was a loud whistle tearing through the cab.

I saw Jones and Nathaniel exchange a look.

"KGB," the three stated in unison.

 

I hadn't believed them when they said KGB. I didn't think it possible until I saw it for myself. Bonham had done this before, that was obvious. We got the address the Earl requested and Bonham rung it in to someone while Theo and Nathaniel were doing a bit of servo with Jones and me keeping watch in the truck. When we got to the building the Major had commandeered as his headquarters everyone was already there, the Major talking on the blower with somebody.

He slammed the receiver down and turned to his agents who were standing several paces away.

"They can't get in. IDIOTS!"

All eyes swivelled around, finally alighting on the man who had been sitting in the back, listening to the entire conversation silently. He was absently twisting one of his curls around his finger, and when everyone's attention was finally at his command he smiled, sweet and bright.

"Ask me nicely."

The Major's permanent scowl deepened and he advanced on the Earl. At the same moment everyone, agents and staff alike, stepped back from the epicenter. He looked ready to crack a mental.

"Get Me In That Fucking Room or I will snap your neck." Each word was carefully annunciated through clenched teeth. _That_ was his idea of asking politely!? Despite how serious this sounded I was hoping Lord Gloria would tell the Major to shove it out his arse.

Instead though, Lord Gloria quickened and rose, walking closer to the Major.

"See now, that wasn't nearly as difficult as you thought it would be, now was it, darling?"

 

"You know, Major, this room is sealed up very tightly. More tightly than I would have thought it should be."

The Earl was bent over a series of locks and wires, tackling one after another . He had already disarmed or deceived two trip-set alarms with an ease and familiarity which was both admirable and deeply disturbing. These weren't old model alarms, and it was humbling to realize how much practice Eroica seemed to have with state-of-the-art security systems.

"Does that mean you cannot open it?" the Major asked with a predatory smile. The Earl only rolled his eyes.

"Do not blame me for doubting you, thief. You are the one that could not break Misha's last lock."

"I obtained weapons for us, did I not?"

"But you failed to break the lock."

Lord Gloria finally became fed up. He made a partial body turn, his fingers still entrenched in electrical circuitry as he glared at the German looking down at him.

"It was a _nuclear submarine_!"

I did a double-take at that as the Earl continued to justify himself.

"... _Russian_!"

"It is taking you too long! Get on with it!"

Lord Gloria threw one final, pointed glare at the Major before turning back to the wires.

"Should I go steal Misha's submarine to prove I can open computer locks now?" he muttered. The Major smiled viciously.

"Yes, do that. I hear there are some in Siberia."

"You're just trying to get rid of me!" Something beeped and the Earl immediately detangled his fingers from the mess they'd been in. Slipping a simple, slender lock pick from his left sleeve he went to work on the doorknob. Seconds later - _seconds!_ \- there was a click and Lord Gloria opened the door for us all. He entered first, followed quickly by the Major. Silence, then,

"Oh my God," the Earl whispered, taking a step back out of the room, and bumping into the Major who hadn't moved. "Time to go."

The German leader uttered what had to be a curse before barking orders to his agents who quickly scurried off.

I looked inside. Sitting off to the side, not quite against the wall was a bomb large enough to take out the building, and a few of the surrounding stores. It was neatly counting off seconds from 352. The Major latched onto Lord Gloria's arm as best he could.

"We are not going anywhere. This bomb must be diffused." Lord Gloria whirled on him.

" _We_!? What's this _we_? _I_ don't have to stay here! I don't deal with bombs and exploding things. That's your job! Bombs are far too unromantic for me to take my time to deal with them."

" _I_ can't diffuse the bomb, idiot!" He held up his two bandaged hands.

"Well can't you just shoot it like the one in Italy?"

"You mean the one that exploded shortly afterwards?"

"I don't know anything about diffusing bombs!"

"Pretend it's a fucking security system then!"

"No."

"When did you get so fucking self-preserving?"

I had been wondering the same thing myself, actually.

"Because if I get us killed trying to diffuse that thing then you'll have even more reason to hate me. It's bad enough now! I don't need you hating me because I killed you, too."

I expected the Major to wallop the Earl right then. Strangely enough, something seemed to have gotten through to him.

"I promise not to hate you if you try your best to diffuse the bomb."

Lord Gloria looked distinctly unsatisfied, and couldn't seem to look the Major in the eye.

"Don't say anything else, Klaus. At least the last thing I will have heard from you will be a kind lie." The Earl turned to me. "Get everyone away from here. Tell Bonham I'll be down in a few minutes."

The Major was talking rapidly into an R/T as Lord Gloria moved into the room with the bomb. The last I saw of them before rushing off to make sure the team was safe consisted of the Earl putting on a headset and crouching down next to the device with the German hovering over him.

At this point my 'protector of the people' instincts came forward and I fell into the standard evacuation mode the Major's subordinates were using. I saw more than a few startled looks from the Germans as I fell in line beside them, moving quickly from door to door telling people to leave immediately.

I noticed the agent population increase dramatically as we worked, faster than I would have thought possible. Quickly enough, we were actually finished, and it was only then that I recalled how little time had been on the counter. I headed back into the building. There was no reason Lord Gloria should be placed in further danger as a civilian. Of course, if it was too late it would be too late for all of us. The bomb could very well be counting down the final seconds as I took the stairs two and three at a time.

Three floors passed quickly, and when I burst through the doorway, two people, blond and brunette, made unsubtle movements of reaching for weapons - I wondered what weapon Lord Gloria had on him - before they relaxed again.

I looked at the bomb. The timer was frozen at 42 seconds. The Earl and the Major were each leaning against separate walls, quiet and unmoving, with slumped bodies, closed eyes, and heads resting against the solid walls. The Major looked ready to fall asleep.

Best to leave them alone.

Without a word I turned and left the room.

"You sure he's one of yours?" I heard a moment later in a gravelly baritone. There was a long pause, and I altered my pace a moment.

"I'll tell you another time how I happened upon him. It's a rather interesting story." I heard what I think was a grunt from the Major while I moved back to the stairwell and left.

 

 

I used the excuse of trauma from this... I didn't even know what to call it. Adventure?... to pull out of Eroica's team without compromising my position in the underground. No one seemed at all surprised when it finally happened. I did end up loitering about for a few more days. Found myself reluctant to leave for more than one reason, but finally I decided I had to get back to my type of civilization.

The cleanup went faster than I could have imagined. Guess the Germans wanted to get home like the rest of us. There was a pissy ordeal between James and the Major as we were all packing up.

"When are you going to pay us?" James had demanded of the Major.

"Pay you!? I'm not going to pay you! You haven't been contracted for anything. You are interfering thieves who should be thrown in jail for 100 years! Now get out of here!!" he finished with another dragon's roar which I swear blew the hair from James' face back. The little runt cringed back but didn't give up. I caught the look the Major threw Lord Gloria, who immediately tried to pacify things.

"Now James, perhaps you should lay off in this instance. The Major was wounded, you know, and he isn't in the best of moods--"

"You were wounded too!" James turned back to the Major. "He should get compensation for that! And money for the stress of defusing that bomb! And..." The list continued.

Lord Gloria gave a Bonham a specific look, and Bonham got to searching his trousers for what turned out to be change. He tossed several coins to the ground and immediately Lord Gloria shouted out:

"James! Look! Coins!"

"Wha--? Where?" James stopped his tirade against the Major and ran to the spot the Earl and the rest of them were pointing at. "Coins! Oh, I love coins! Are there more?" He began scrabbling about, searching the kerbs and gutters. Lord Gloria turned back to the Major who held up a hand.

"Get the hell out of here, Eroica."

The Earl smiled serenely. "Goodbye, Major dearest."

So we'd left, gone back to England with an ecstatic Earl who, when I'd asked, has said, "He didn't hit me once this time. I'm making progress." There were some things that would never be understood about the Earl, I guessed.

My final morning I was summoned by the Earl for a private meeting. It had been a direct, straightforward farewell. In the end he told me if I ever needed anything from him, to not hesitate ringing him up. I never doubted that he meant every word he said to me.

Bonham drove me to Piccadilly Circus that afternoon. As we neared the light where I would be jumping out of the auto he steered the conversation to the future.

"You ever need anything, you feel right to come to me. I'll do me best to help you out of any trouble you're in. Just so you know."

The second offer in one day. The Earl and his people were certainly the most generous bunch I'd ever infiltrated, always willing to help out a colleague or a former colleague. Felt right bad, lying and deceiving as I had been.

I sacked into a hotel for the night to give myself time to become myself again, rather than the toughie I'd been for the past 7 months. The next morning, cloudy and early, I set out for the closest police station, walked in and went to the front desk.

"Peter Lamb, Interpol. I need your help contacting my people."

I wondered if I would forgive myself for what I was about to do.

I didn't hand over any of my information on Eroica. I was shuffled out of England "as a matter of prevention" and taken directly to Lyon where I was extensively debriefed on Cal's organization. It took a lot of smooth words to convince them I'd only been hiding from any residuals of Cal's group in England, though they'd taken back to Down Under. Then I was shipped back home for another debriefing.

The day after Cal had been indicted on 73 counts, I came into work and saw a overly large floral bouquet sitting on my desk. It was filled with all sorts of orange and yellow flowers, with a plain white card nestled in the ferns. I could feel the eyes of every person in the department on me, and a few people were already standing in the doorway.

I was a bit flushed as I opened the card.

 _Congratulations!  
L. Gloria_

It was written in a woman's flowing script. My heart began pounding in my chest. Suddenly the smell of the flowers and ferns was overwhelming.

"So who's the dolly who sent you those, mate?"

"Must've been a hell of a bang to get those."

Ten hour time difference... it was just turned 10 pm in England. I gave up the thought of calling before I clocked out since I'd need to track down the number to the Earl's castle. (Amazing the things I realized I _didn't_ have from my time there.)

I managed to hold off until 8:30 that evening so I could call at a relatively decent hour over there. A voice I didn't recognize answered the blower.

"This is Pete, I need to speak to the Earl."

"Lord Gloria is not receiving calls today. May I lay out a message for him?"

"It's important, is he available?"

"I'm sorry, but the Earl is not taking any calls today." The voice had become more rude and forceful. Never let it be said the English are always polite.

"Listen, this is a bleeding overseas call!"

"Then I suggest not wasting time calling today when he isn't taking calls," said the voice and then the call was disconnected. I slammed down the phone, cursing. It took me a few minutes, but suddenly I was dialing the number for the flat in inner London. It rang 3 times before picking up.

"My, but you _are_ the detective, aren't you?" The Earl's voice came across the lines clearly.

"How long have you known?" I demanded. Lord Gloria gave a little laugh.

"From the very beginning, darling. Though it did take a night to track down who you really were. You don't honestly believe I would go out of my way to save one of Mr. Cal's ordinary boorish thugs, do you?"

"Why?" I asked, in general.

"Oh, I don't like Mr. Cal. A man without any sense of aesthetics. He would have destroyed that rug, you realize. Mr. Cal is supposed to be a big boy. If he can't keep the law out of his organization, then he deserves whatever he reaps. So there was every reason in the world to help you, and none whatsoever to help Mr. Cal."

I was silent for a long time, turning that over. I didn't like to think of what my odds had been back on that day. I began thanking God for the intelligence and whims of the man who called himself 'Eroica'.

"Thank you."

"It was nothing, dear. There was no reason for you to suffer merely because Mr. Cal is a jealous and paranoid lout. Just make certain you watch those types more carefully next time. They aren't a good lot."

"How many others knew?"

"Most of the staff. Though we had a terrible time keeping the information from James. He dislikes when I do such things as much as he hates when I lend my services to NATO. "

"Ey, Lord Gloria?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Watch out for that KGB. They aren't people you should root around with."

"Oh, most occasions I let the Major and his Alphabet deal with the KGB. Sometimes however I must involve myself. I don't want to see the Major get in over his head. He runs solo just as I do too often, and his agents aren't nearly as good at tracking him down as my staff is with me. He needs some sort of support, even if I am a civilian. Take care of yourself, Peter."

The Earl had rung off with that.

Up to this point I'd been in a constant state of reassessing my decision that day outside the London police station to not hand over details on Eroica, and now I felt more secure than ever with my decision to not turn in the Earl and his staff. Aside from owing the man more than I could probably pay back, the pommy really put his skills to important uses. Now I just had to hope he didn't steal the world blind.

The next time I saw Lord Gloria was after I'd gone back into deep cover. I had managed to get into the second largest racketeering orgo in my part of the world. Cal had been thoroughly taken care of months ago, and it hadn't looked at all suspicious that I'd escaped the blitz of Cal's people; yet another thanks I owed Lord Gloria.

It was another of those infamous underworld gatherings, this time in Hong Kong, the type which I never really expected the Earl to participate in though he obviously did. He walked about, socializing, drawing attention to himself as though it was the way he sustained himself. And he completely ignored me. So did Jones, who was there too, I later saw. It was eerie to the point that _I_ began to wonder if I'd actually spent a month on the man's team.

I saw him as he left, always exiting much more quietly than the entrance he made. Something made him turn, and his eyes instantly made contact with mine, for only a second or two. It was one of those looks that I'd always seen him exchanging with Bonham or Jones or somebody else on his staff. And I read it as clearly as if he'd spoken right into my head.

 _Anytime._

Well. Wasn't that interesting.

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> Original post date, 1999.
> 
> Disclaimer: The majority of the characters within were created by Yasuko Aoike and star in her series From Eroica With Love.
> 
> I'd like to extend a deep thanks to everyone who has fed me Eroica stories all these months: Claire, Misha, Cindy, Ari, and definitely Lisa W., as well as thank Masae and Lisa for all their efforts into telling us all about the manga themselves and the efforts they put into translations. Thank you all so very, very much!
> 
> And also a great many and wonderful thanks to Ruth S. for all the information she sent me on English college grading systems. Thank you so much!
> 
> Comments, criticisms, critiques or discussions are always welcome. :)
> 
> This is definitely in the same story line as the Spelunking story.


End file.
